Isabelle
by islandphoenix
Summary: A somewhat AU story about Isabelle, a few years after the finale. I posted this before about a year ago, if it seems familiar, but this is a rewrite. Please read and review! Chapter eight up!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys,**

**I actually posted this story about a year ago, but I thought I'd try a rewrite. The beginning of this chapter's not long after the finale, but then it jumps ahead a few years later. It's pretty much AU, so dead people can come back to life, blah blah. **

**Reviews are GREAT, and I promise I will reply. **

**Thanks for reading**

**phoenix**

_Dixon walked slowly through the offices of the APO, his gaze firmly locked on the floor. It was quieter than he had ever known, silent except for a few whispers of mourning. _

_He kept walking, never looking up until he reached a wall covered with a block of stone, covered with hundreds of names. Hundreds of faces. He knew he wouldn't be standing where he was today if it hadn't been for the people who those names and faces belonged to, people who gave their lives for their work, for their people._

_And he would never be able to thank them. _

_Dixon ran his fingertips across the names, most of them unfamiliar. But then there were two, newly engraved into the stone that brought tears to his eyes. _

_Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow. _

_Dixon closed his eyes. It's not right, he thought. They were both so young, so brave, finally so happy with a family of their own. And now they were both gone. _

_A child's cry broke the silence, and Dixon looked up, through a glass wall into a room. He could see the baby's familiar face streaked with tears, until a girl reached out for his hand. He grasped her finger tightly, and his cries subsided into sleepy breaths. _

_The girl looked up, straight into Dixon's eyes with her all too familiar eyes. Her mother's eyes, with the same unruly brown hair as her father. Isabelle. _

_Dixon merely stared at the look of fear and sadness in her eyes. The baby, Jack, was still far to young to understand what was going on. But Isabelle understood. She was so young, too young, but she understood, and she knew she had to stay strong for her family. _

_Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed Isabelle's and led her away. Dixon wanted so badly to stop them, but his feet remained rooted to the floor. No matter how many times he had volunteered to take the children in himself, he was always told that foster homes were already set up for them, and it was better for them to start a new life. A new life with a new family. _

_He stood there, helpless as they walked away. _

Isabelle Williams was up late, madly typing the last paragraph on her English essay. Finally she victoriously punched in the last word and closed the computer with a sigh.

Her fingers brushed over her dad's name, printed on a sticker on the corner of his computer. Christopher Williams worked for a bank downtown, but was often away on business trips. It had been a long time since he had been home, but now he was staying for two weeks. Izzie smiled, happy that he was home.

She squinted at the eerily glowing numbers on her alarm clock. 1:45.

Her gaze traveled to the window in front of her. She could see nothing but darkness laced with moonlight. Izzie opened the window, leaned out as far as she could, and let the moonlight wash over her. She could hear nothing but crickets and birds and sometimes the soft hoot of an owl. Izzie lived in a house with a long, winding driveway that separated her world from everyone else's. She had lived here all her life, though her parents didn't like to speak of her childhood. She knew nothing except that her memories of those years were lost in an accident when she was young. But this place felt like home, and it was the one places that Izzie trusted. It was in what many called, "the middle of nowhere", impossible to find. But that was how Izzie liked it, it was her refuge, her escape, and filled with nights like this where there was nothing but her, the moon and crickets and birds.

She left the window open, the breeze following her as she went to bed and slept with a soft smile on her face, knowing she was alone, safe, and no one would ever be able to find her.

She couldn't have know about the black car, silent as the night, watching and waiting just below her window.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everybody,**

**Thanks SO much for the great reviews. I loved hearing from you guys. **

**About this chapter…. It actually turned out to be a lot more dramatic and dark than I thought it was going to be, hence the rating change. It's pretty sad and really dramatic, but it's probably going to be the worst chapter and then it gets better. I don't want bad stuff happening to Izzie all the time, that would suck. **

**This chapter also has some language issues in it, but that's all. Please read and review, and I will reply. **

**Thanks**

**phoenix**

It had only been hours since night had fallen, but to the young man sitting in the car, it seemed like years. He had hardly ever taken his eyes off the dim light in the highest window. It was still glowing steadily but weakly, as though it might burn out at any moment. He prayed in wouldn't, for he knew that as soon as the whole house was dark they would have to make their move. Though he knew that it must happen at sometime or another, he found himself wishing that maybe, just maybe as long as the light stayed burning, they would just have to give up and go home.

But he knew that wouldn't happen.

And so he just waited and prayed.

His partner, a tall man with thick dark hair, a deep voice, and eyes that seemed almost black, turned to him and said, "Nearly 2 am. It's almost time, I bet."

He didn't take his eyes off the window. "Yeah."

"Well," the other man mumbled, digging into a bag that lay at his feet, "you know what to do."

He held out a roll of duct tape and a pair of handcuffs. The young man hesitated for a second, but then he took the handcuff and tape like it was no big deal, trying his hardest to keep his hands from shaking. But his partner noticed his nervousness and began to laugh, a chilling deep chuckle. "C'mon, you're not getting soft on me, are ya?" He punched the young man's shoulder.

"Course I'm not," he replied. "Just wondering how much longer we have to wait here."

"Shouldn't be too long," his partner grumbled. "But you got no idea how much we all have bee waiting for this. This girl, ever since she was born- she's about the most important thing to this company at this point. So-" he pointed his finger threateningly at the young man, stabbing the air, "you better not mess it up."

He shook his head, sending his unruly blonde locks into his face. As if on cue, the light switched off, and the partner smiled a sly grin. "Let's go."

The door was, as they had requested their asset, left unlocked. The house was silent and peaceful, with the safe atmosphere of a seemingly perfect home. But there was one person still lying awake, his eyes staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with the knowledge that his family was never going to be the same after tonight, that tonight his little girl, his Izzie, would be taken away from him, into a world where she would be left scared and alone. Christopher Williams, the seemingly perfect father who had just spent the last three weeks watching his colleagues plan his own daughter's kidnapping, was still lying awake. He waited and waited helplessly for the shock of the moment when his two lives would collide, leaving chaos and tragedy.

Just down the hall, Isabelle lay sleeping, her lips pressed in a sleepy smile, deep in a dream. No one but her would ever see what her eyes were seeing of dreamland. But wherever she was, whatever she was seeing, it wouldn't last for long.

The sound of her front door opening awakened her sleeping ears. She looked around drowsily, but everything was invisible in the dark. The next thing she remembered were strong arms grabbing her, shattering her dreamland back into reality. She screamed, a scream that woke the house.

"Shit," snapped her captor in her ears, and she could hear her parents frantic footsteps pounding down the hall. The lights switched on, and she could see her mother's terrified face staring at her.

"Mom-" she choked out, but in one swift movement the man holding her threw her back against the wall and hit her mother hard with one strong blow, and she crumpled to the floor unconscious.

"Mom!" Izzie screamed, tears flooding her vision. All she could see was her father standing in the doorway staring at her. She felt cold metal on her wrists and the click of handcuffs. "What the hell are those for?" her father screamed.

"Just a precaution," the man grumbled.

"Dad," Izzie screamed. "Dad, what's happening?"

The young man stood in the corner, helpless. There must be something he could do to stop this. His mind was racing. But he just stood still.

"It's gonna be okay, Izzie, I'm so sorry baby, it's gonna be okay," the father whispered, trying to console his terrified daughter. But she was only left more confused and scared.

They shoved her out the door into the hallway. "Don't hurt her!" the father's voice yelled frantically after them, and his daughter turned to look at him with those terrified, innocent eyes one more time. His heart broke and he sank to the floor. He should have been prepared for this. He had known this had to happen, ever since the day she became his daughter. But that still didn't make it right.

Izzie closed her eyes tight. She felt as though her entire world was crashing down onto her shoulders, to heavy for her to bear. The next thing she knew she was outside, and the rain came cascading down onto her face, plastering her hair onto her cheeks. They threw her into the back of a car and the last thing she remembered was the sharp prick of a needle biting her neck before she collapsed into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys,**

**It's about 1:30 am so this note is gonna be short, and all I have to say about this chapter is that thanks to the AUness, you're gonna see some familiar faces. Thanks for all the reviews last time, review again and I will reply. :-)**

**Thanks, **

**phoenix**

She was jolted awake by a bump in the road that slammed her already aching head into the car window. She winced, and began to panic, not knowing where she was or how she got there. Then, all the memories, it you could call them that, for they were more like nightmares, came rushing back to her like a sudden winter chill. Tears would have come to her eyes, but she had already cried so many in one night that it made her wonder if she would ever cry again.

Izzie swept her tangled hair out of her eyes to get a better look at her surroundings. What she saw made her eyes, once filled with sorrow, fill back with annoyance and rage. One of her kidnappers, the younger one with the blonde hair, was sitting opposite her in the back of the van, staring at her with a strange look it his eyes. A look of sadness, pity even, strange some from the one who had put her in this situation anyway. And from the looks of it, he had been watching her all night.

_Who the hell does he think he is? _she thought furiously,_ kidnapping me in the first place and then just watching me sleep like some pervert?_

He reached for her then, and she threw yet another piercing glare at him, but he did not hesitate, and, to her bewilderment, the same look of pity still remained in his stare. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he murmured, and gently pulled away the tape that bound her lips. She curled them into her mouth, and they stung. But she still didn't take her eyes off of his.

Instead, she spit hard, right into his face.

He still didn't move and she was thinking of throwing a punch to his face, although that would have been difficult with her hands bound behind her back, so then she decided that now would be a pretty damn good time for him to answer some of her questions, cause she had a hell of a lot of the that needed answering.

She was done crying. Now it was time for her to fight her way back home.

Before she could bring words to her lips, however, the van jolted to a halt, throwing both of them forward. The doors opened wide, and a blinding light poured through them. It hit her tired eyes and sent a pain ripping through her head. Before she even knew what was happening, strong hands were grabbing her by the shoulders, pulling her into the light. Her bare feet hit the pavement with a scrape. She struggled to look around. All she could see was flat land, all surrounded by a huge concrete wall topped with wire, and she could see armed guards.

Before she knew it she was being ushered through a set of doors, into a hall, painted white. It was a vast, barren white, and it made her wonder it she would ever see color again, or if all she would see was this, this endless cold white. It reminded her of a mental hospital.

Was that where she was? Was she doomed to be trapped in these walls, labeled "crazy," stuck in this place until that was exactly what she became?

She was shoved through another door, which immediately thrust her into darkness. The change from white to black was so sudden it startled her. Until a dim lamp switched on above her.

She could just barely make out a figure silhouetted in the light, and she could her the footsteps drawing closer and closer, trapping her like a predator would to prey. Her heart pounded harder and harder with each step. They grew louder, as though they were ready to strike. She closed her eyes tightly, and they stopped. She cowered there, waiting for another hand to grab her, take her away yet again.

But all she heard was a voice, chillingly soft. "Hello, Isabelle."

She opened her eyes. A man stood over her, his slightly graying blond hair askew, his gray-blue eyes looking sharply into hers, his thin lips pressed in a sly smile.

"We've been waiting for you," he murmured, and Izzie shuddered at his smile, though she tried not to let him see her fear.

"What do you want?" Izzie choked out the first question that came to her mind.

He shrugged, and paced around the room, his shoes making that familiar sound of the concrete. "I was just wondering if there was any chance you'd be willing to work with us."

Izzie stared at him is disbelief. The way he had said it, it was almost as if she had a choice. Like hell she had a choice. If she had, she would have much rather had this meeting without her hands locked behind her back.

Only one thing was on her mind. "The only thing that I am _willing _to do," she snapped, "is to go home and help my family."

He laughed, a laugh as false as his smile. "Your _family_?" he repeated in the same tone. "Is that what you still call them?"

She stared at him in confusion. "Tell me, Isabelle," he asked, "does your _family_ have any stories about you as a baby, Any pictures?"

It was the mystery that had surrounded her entire life. How would he know?

"What about you, can your tell me your childhood memories? What your favorite bedtime story was, favorite lullaby, first word? Can you remember any of it?"

Izzie began to rock herself back and forth on the floor, hands clamped over her ears. She didn't believe it. She wouldn't.

He leaned in close, close enough to whisper in her ear. "Tell me, Isabelle," he asked, "what kind of family is that?"

She looked up at him. "Then tell me the truth." She was desperate for it. She didn't trust him, not one bit. But somehow he knew her past, and she had to find it.

But he shook his head. "That is a story for another time," he said, the smile widening. "You will need to get some sleep before your training."

He turned to leave. "I won't help you if you don't at least tell me why I'm here! Who are you?" Izzie yelled after him, desperate for any answer.

He turned back and gave her a smirk. "My name is Julian Sark. And you are here because it is your destiny."

The door closed softly behind him and Izzie stared at the ceiling, endless questions still spinning through her mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, **

**So, so much for the update every week plan, huh? ;-) I'm really really really really really sorry this took so long. School got kinda crazy, but thanks to the great reviews, here's chapter four! Updates might take longer than I promised, but I am gonna try and keep this thing going, so review review review!**

**Thanks so much, you guys are the best.**

**Sorry for the late update, **

**phoenix**

Izzie flopped over onto her side with a sigh, draining every last second of sleep that she could. She knew, any minute now, her mother would knock on her door, announcing that she was already late. 

Her cheek scraped over something hard and cold. Did she fall out of bed in the night? 

She opened her eyes, and remembered. She was a prisoner. 

She was a prisoner in this room, the stained, deathly gray walls drowning her. A flickering light bulb buzzed in her ear like a fly. 

Izzie scrambled to her feet and ran to the door. It towered mockingly above her, its black face staring her down with a challenge. 

She gripped the handle. In her terrified, fear driven mind, anything was possible, even a teenage girl breaking out of a prison with her bare hands. She had been worn down to nothing but her reckless instinct. "My wild girl," her father would say lovingly. "Never look before you leap, do you, Miss Isabelle?" 

She bit back the tears at the memory of her father. Her father, the same man who had stood by and watched as she was dragged away in handcuffs?

How could the perfect painting of her life be torn apart so easily? Was it really that possible for everything that you knew to be taken away all at once?

Izzie shoved the thoughts aside and tightened her grip on the rusted handle. _One, two-_

But before she could move, she heard the jangle of keys. She leapt aside and fell, hard, back to the pavement. She lay there, her heart pounding, eyes locked on the door. Who was behind it? Her kidnapper? The man with the blond hair- Julian Sark?

But the door opened to reveal a fat man twirling a ring of keys. She closed her eyes in relief. He beckoned to her. "C'mon. Get up." 

Keeping her sharp eyes locked in his gaze, she rose to her weary feet. "Where're you taking me?"

"That for me to know and for you to find out," he snapped, taking her shoulder in his giant's grip. "And you will soon enough." 

He dragged her down the all too familiar hallway, and she closed her eyes to block out the terror of those memories. She kept them locked shut until she heard the jangle of keys again. 

Izzie opened her eyes. She stepped through the doorway into a huge room not unlike the gym she remembered from seventh grade. Light poured in from tall windows on one wall, and the gleaming rays were almost comforting, though they did not make her any less amazed and confused. 

She felt the bone-crushing grip on her shoulder lessen and the door close once again behind her. But she barely had a chance to explore her new surroundings before she heard a familiar voice. 

"I know you must have questions, Isabelle." 

She rolled her eyes without even thinking and smiled to herself. _I'm not gonna let this place break me, _she thought. _I'm not afraid of him. _She whirled around and looked Julian Sark in the eyes, but he put a finger to his lips. "Be patient. First, we need you to help us." 

"And why the hell-" She was cut off by a smile from Sark. She shuddered, though she didn't let him see it. But sometimes, the way he looked at her, it was like he was looking at a familiar face. "Because you want answers, don't you? And I'm guessing you also want to make sure your- your _family-" _He was saying the word like that again, like he knew something she didn't. "that they stay alive."

Izzie's hands curled into fists, her fingernails drilling into her palms. "You-"

"Relax," he said with that same chilling grin. "They're safe and sound, for now. And if you help us, that's how they'll stay."

_Fine. _"What do you need me to do?" she asked, and waited, too terrified to move, for the reply. 

The grin widened. "You will learn how to fight off five men at least, how to solve any code, how to jump from an airplane, how to become, in time, one to the most valuable agents in this company." Izzie felt her jaw drop, but Sark continued. "And then we'll see about your past, and your family. How does that sound?"

Izzie was left speechless. One question was still locked in her mind, though she couldn't speak it aloud. _Why me?_

When the silence had hovered between them for a few minutes, Sark spoke again. "Perhaps your handler will do a better job of explaining this than myself." A figure stepped out from behind him and Izzie closed her eyes with a sigh of disbelief- it was her kidnapper, the man with the blond hair. 

"I'm looking forward to working with you, Isabelle," Sark said by way of a goodbye, and left, closing the door with a bang that echoed through the room like thunder. 

They stood there, staring at each other for a few minutes, eyes filled with loathing. "You- he can't be serious- you can't be-" Izzie stuttered.

"Yeah. Your handler." He snapped back. 

She hated that word. What was she, a dog? "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered. 

"Believe me when I say I wish I were," he replied coldly. Apparently he hadn't forgotten that one time she spit in his eye. _Oops. _But then again, she sure as hell wasn't forgetting that one time he kidnapped her and locked in the trunk of his van. 

Another minute of death-glares went by until he got to his feet. "C'mon. We'd better get started."

"Wait." Izzie said sharply. "One more thing. What's your name?"

He turned to face her with green eyes. "Jason."

**Sooooooo, after a far too long wait, dun dun dun DUN…….. Chapter 4! Hope you guys enjoyed. I couldn't really think of a name for Jason, but I was watching The Greatest Movie Ever at the time, (aka the Bourne Ultimatum) and it seemed to work okay.**

**Anyway, reviewers get replys with much love, and thanks for reading,**

**phoenix. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everybody, here's chapter five. Sorry all these chapters are a little short, they might go longer as the story goes on, though that might mean more time between updates, but we'll see how it goes. Hopefully it will get more exciting in the next few chapters, and I'm going to try and bring back some more familiar faces. **

**Thanks for all the great reviews, they're what keep the updates coming (however slowly it might take, sorry) Anyway, nothing makes my email happier at the end of the day then an inbox full of reviews, so thanks. **

**Enough with the notes. Read on!**

**phoenix**

Izzie slammed against the thick padded blue wall once again. The next thing she knew, another punch was being hurled at her head. She ducked and blindly fought back, moving through the fight with hardly any idea of what she was doing. She was just trying to protect herself. Only one thing was on her mind, both blinding her with worry and encouraging her on; her family's faces. Nothing else mattered. Even if what Sark had said was true, and she didn't trust him enough to believe that it was, they were the only family she had, which made it her job to protect them.

This thought pushed her on, so she threw another punch at her attacker, Jason of course, and he grabbed her gently but firmly by the wrist in the blink of an eye. "Stop." he muttered, and released her.

She stretched out onto the gym floor and closed her eyes for a moment, grateful for a moment of rest. She counted that she'd been here for four days. There seemed to be a bit of a routine, though she tried to keep herself prepared, as she never knew for sure what would happen to her next.

She would wake up to a bell every morning that rang from the hall, a bell that reminded her of the lunch bell from sixth grade. They had moved her out of the cell to a room with a set of drawers that held clothes that were too small for her, and a bed. The room was all white. Too white. Still, it was better than her old cell, the damp dinghy hole with no light or color. During her days there she had feared that the world she knew was gone, and all that was left was that room. But now here she was in a new prison, which at least had a window. It was a small cracked pane of glass that revealed nothing but vast dry grass, but she dared to hope that there were some trees way out it into the distance that she could almost see if she squinted.

She would wait for them to drop off breakfast, if that was what you were supposed to call it, which was usually just a slab of toast and if she was lucky, an apple. Then she waited for the door to open again to reveal Jason, who, silently, would lead her down the hall back to the gym for training. The only good thing about Jason was that he seemed to trust her enough not to throw handcuffs on her every time he saw her, which was a relief.

And so it went, day after day. It had only been four days and it was already beginning to drive her crazy. The questions would spin through her head constantly. Why was she here? What did they want from her? Why did they know so much about her past? Why-

"Isabelle."

Izzie rolled her eyes. She hated being called Isabelle. It was way too fancy for her. Everyone always called her Izzie, as long as she could remember. And her memories, as Sark had reminded her with his unsettling, unanswerable questions, only began from when she was about seven or eight years old. She had always told herself it was just because she was too young, but now she "Just call me Izzie, okay?" she snapped at Jason. After all, it was the least he could do, after taking her away and beating her to a pulp everyday. Their mutual loathing had not faded during their time working together, and the way Izzie saw it, it wasn't going to. Not easily, anyway.

"And you call me Jason," he replied in the same tone. "Let's try it again."

Izzie pushed herself back up off the floor with a new energy, her fears and frustrations urging her weary body up for one more fight. Jason threw another punch at her, and to her amazement as much as his, she grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back, throwing him to the ground. Jason lay there for a moment, staring at her in disbelief. Izzie just stood there, speechless. The unspoken word hung in the air between them. _How?_

All of a sudden, a shaky burst of laughter pulled Izzie back out of her racing thoughts. Jason was grinning up at her, and she was surprised to see that grin on his that was usually so stern. "Damn Izzie," he laughed, "why didn't you try that before?"

It took Izzie a few minutes to form something that sounded even remotely like a word. "H-how- but, how d-did I-" she spluttered.

"You're a natural, I guess," Jason said, running his hands through his hair, his and Izzie's conflicts with each other fading in their mutual amazement. He looked back at her, and his grin faded at the expression of confusion mixed with a little fear on her face. Jason grabbed a water bottle perched obediently on the floor by his feet and tossed it to her. "Here. Take a break. You deserve it," he said, his voice falling back into its familiar tone, but the smile still unfading on his face.

They sat in silence for a moment as Izzie recovered. But her brief moment of victory hadn't settled her restless mind, and she spoke the first question that came to her mind.

"What happens now?"

Jason shook his head. "More training. It's not that easy. But you'll pick it up quick. You're a natural. Just like they say about-" All to late he remembered his warnings to never reveal the secrets of that story. He stopped suddenly and avoided her prying gaze.

"Just like they say about who?" Izzie demanded. He turned away. "No one."

She stood, walked over to him, and sat beside him. Her eyes, burning with curiosity, were burning right into the back of his head. "It's not that easy," she muttered his own words back into his ear. He did not answer, and of course Izzie opened her mouth to ask again, becoming filled with anger at his silence.

Jason was saved by the click of the lock in the gym door, which echoed throughout the towering walls and across the ceiling.

"Nice work, Isabelle."

Her fingernails scraped across the hardwood at the sound of that voice. She forced herself to look up and face Sark in the doorway, but the most thanks she could give him was a sharp nod. He didn't take his eyes off hers, and she didn't dare look away. "Give her two months, Jason."

"What?" Jason called out as he turned to leave. "It'll take more than two months, she's not ready, it's not safe."

"Two months is all we have," Sark replied, his eyes settling back onto Izzie's gaze again. "We don't have much time."

Jason kept his eyes locked on the floor. "Come on. Let's start again."

"Yeah," Izzie snapped, "let's." She shoved him up against the wall. "You know something," she hissed in his ear. "Who were you talking about? Why are they keeping me here?"

"Izzie, goddamn it, stop, somebody'll hear you," he choked out as her grip cut across his neck. In a flash, Jason freed himself by kicking Izzie's feet out from under her and pinning her to the floor. "If you ever want to live long enough to find anything out," he gasped, "keep your voice down."

Slowly he released her. They both sat there wincing for a moment until Jason spoke again. "I don't really trust them anymore. They could kill me for telling you anything. And I don't really trust you either. But we need to get through the next few weeks or you won't be prepared, and that could get you killed."

Izzie, startled by this truth, only asked, "Prepared for what?"

Jason looked her in the eyes, and there was something like worry in his that gave her a lurch of fear. "For your first mission."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everybody,**

**Here's chapter 6. It was great to hear from you guys, I loved getting stuff from new people and familiar ones. This chapter has Izzie's first mission in it, a little more exciting :-) Enjoy. **

**Thanks guys, **

**phoenix**

As Izzie would learn throughout the next several weeks, if you are dreading something in the future, your fear only makes the time run faster.

And so those days passed by in a blur, and she kept fighting. It seemed she never stopped fighting, never stopped moving. By now she was becoming strong, very strong, but she barely noticed. And she didn't stop.

They had moved on to target shooting, which Izzie, to her surprise, learned remarkably fast. By now she could shoot a target with her eyes closed. But she was not thrilled by this success. She was terrified of it. It only meant that the time was drawing ever more near when she would be thrust into a different life, when every second was filled with danger. She knew that she would never again be truly safe.

Izzie shut her eyes tight, back to the target, keeping her finger poised on the trigger. Her mind kept racing; with thoughts coming at her so fast she couldn't control-

She whirled around; eyes closed, and pulled the trigger.

_Bang. _

Her mind went silent. She opened her eyes.

Bull's-eye.

Looking at her miraculous achievement made her stomach clench. _Shit. _

The sound of the shot was still ringing through her ears when she heard the voice behind her. "Impressive, Isabelle."

She turned slowly to face the sight she had been dreading for the past two months. Julian Sark stood before her, his smirk widening into a triumphant grin.

"It's time. Follow me."

Izzie whirled around and her eyes hit Jason's, who was watching her from the windows. They held that fear again, and panic clenched her stomach.

She couldn't seem to feel her legs, the fear was so strong, but somehow she found herself stumbling wordlessly toward the door.

She didn't know how long the trip took, but next thing she knew Sark opened a door to reveal a space not unlike an office, with high ceiling and people racing to their next destination without a passing glance. Izzie felt her mouth drop. She felt like Dorothy opening the door to Munchkin land, except instead of brilliant rainbow, she saw nothing but cold white, gleaming blindingly.

A man was standing there, waiting for them, his hand outstretched. He had a thick mustache so you couldn't tell if he was smiling or frowning.

"Isabelle. Welcome. I am Director Peterson, your, well, your boss, if you will." He reached further to take her hand. She didn't move. "May take a little getting used to, but you'll fit right in." He began marching down the hall. "You'll be late for the meeting. My partner, Sark has already explained everything to you, I trust?"

_Are you freaking kidding me? _Izzie felt like screaming. _Hell no, he hasn't done much but be his creepy British self, so please, if you've got an update, I'm all ears. _

"I thought I'd leave the delivery of the good news to you, Carl," Sark encouraged.

"Ah. Well, I'd be glad to," Peterson said, reaching for the shining brass knob of the nearest door. "This is my office. Please, come in."

Izzie reluctantly stepped through the doorway. Jason followed, which was comforting, in a sense. Sure, she still despised him, but as his was the most familiar face around this place and she now knew that she in fact could successfully kick his ass if needed, she felt slightly better with him around.

"Well, Isabelle, let me explain this company to you. We are one of the most trusted organizations of this country. Everyday we save millions of lives. We are, in fact, a division of the CIA."

Izzie's eyes hardened. She didn't believe it. Why should she?

"I know this may be hard to believe," Peterson continued, just like he was reading her mind, and Izzie shuddered. "But you have to understand what you mean to this organization. And as you are so important to this organization, you are even more valuable to your country. You will save lives. The lives of your people. The lives of your family."

At those words, Izzie's eyes locked on his, and she didn't let go. But neither did he. "Tell me, Isabelle, would you like to see them again?"

Izzie's hands clenched into fists. She wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face, show him everything she had learned in the past months and use it all on him. But she remained still.

"Just help us," he said softly, "and you will."

Before Izzie even had a chance to answer, he dropped a file in her lap. "This'll be an easy one. There's a lab in Germany that we believe is making weaponry. They're not part of the main division, just a branch project, so they shouldn't be too hard to take down. They haven't begun yet, but it's possible they have some research. We need you to break in and steal the info they have before they can develop it."

Jason spoke up. "Sir, I request permission to accompany her on this mission."

"You're her handler. Of course you're going. Your plane leaves in two hours."

"And- and then you'll give me answers? Let me go home?" Izzie stammered, trying her best to make her voice sound strong.

Isabelle couldn't breathe. She had to get out of there, and so she was more than relieved when Sark opened the door and released her.

"I'll wait for news of your mission," he said with a smile. "Thank you, Isabelle. We've moved you into another room." He tossed Izzie a glittering key. "Just down the hall, first door on the left." He walked away.

Izzie gripped the key so tight its teeth cut into her hand. _Here's your prize for sitting there with your mouth shut like a good girl, Izzie, _she thought bitterly. _You get to lock yourself up now. _

She made her way down the hall and reached the door. Jason grabbed her shoulder. "Listen to me. I know this is a lot to take in-"

"No shit, really?" Izzie snapped, fumbling with the key in the lock.

"It's only gonna get worse, so you'd better listen to me if you want to stay alive." Jason snapped.

It sounded more than melodramatic. But the scary thing was, she found herself believing every word. So she listened.

"Look, I don't know how much longer they're gonna keep you here. You're different, stronger. They'll send you on to more dangerous missions, and I don't know how long I'm going to be around to watch your back."

"Good," Izzie snapped, even though she didn't really mean it. "I don't need you to."

"Fine," Jason turned and walked away. "Just thought you might need a warning."

"Wait," Izzie called out. She ran to him. "Why are you doing this," she asked quietly.

It took him a moment to answer. "Because you don't deserve this life," he said, and walked away. "See you in two hours."

Izzie closed the door behind her, and tried not to think about what the near future might hold for her.

After a long plane ride on the loud jet, they landed on the airstrip in the middle of the night. It was about an hour in the car until they were nearing the labs, at which point they stopped.

"Put this in your ear," Jason said, giving her the earpiece. "I'll be able to hear you, even at a whisper. I'll tell you when I've disarmed the security system. And this," he said, holding up a pin in the shape of a star. "Camera. They'll want pictures of the stuff so you don't have to bring it back. Then there's this one," he held up an impossibly small digital camera, "for still shots. Tell me when you've got it and then we'll get out before they find us."

"Okay," Izzie stammered.

Jason carefully pinned the star to the collar of her shirt. "Go ahead. I'll be there to-"

"Watch my back," Izzie finished, rolling her eyes. "Got it."

She could see a part of the building that was dark, with windows lining the wall. She waited for Jason's cue. Finally, it came. "System's down. You've got ten minutes."

She didn't waste any of them. Izzie leapt up, caught the window frame, and swung into the building, landing, amazingly, somewhat on her feet.

The room was completely dark. She searched through the pockets of her coat to find a mini flashlight that gave off a surprisingly bright glow, enough for her to find a bunch of desks spread out in front of her, smothered in papers, blueprints and sketches.

She reached for the camera in her pocket. "Just take pictures of whatever you can and then if you run out of time, take the important stuff.

Izzie hurriedly snapped picture after picture of page after page. She barely noticed the drawings themselves. All she was worried about was the time ticking and ticking away, unstoppable.

"You're running out of time, Izzie," Jason murmured in her ear as the seconds counted down.

That's when, in the corner of her eye, she saw the camera move. "Izzie, they've found you," Jason's frantic voice hissed in her ear. "Get the hell out."

Izzie turned to run, but she came face to face with two security guards. The familiar panic gripped her, but she closed it out of her mind and only focused on what she had to do.

The first guard tried to aim a punch at her, but she grabbed his wrist in a bone-crushing grip and sent him to the floor. She kicked the other one hard in the stomach, and he was thrown against the wall. They both lay there unconscious.

"Good," Jason muttered encouragingly. "Run."

She was already bolting for the smashed window, pulling the sleeves of her thick jacket over her palms to protect them from the glass.

Finally she reached the van. Jason slammed the door shut and seconds later they sped away.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked as he sped the car down a dirt road.

"Barely," Izzie muttered. Her heart was still pounding so hard it shook her whole body.

"You did it," he said with a grin.

"Yeah," Izzie muttered, but that did not get rid of the fear that constantly loomed over her like a ghost.

_A man sighed as he flopped into his swivel chair, typing in the password to his email. He clicked on an urgent message at the top, which held a link to stolen video footage from a surveillance camera in Germany, no less than two weeks ago. He clicked on the clip. What he saw made his eyes widen. He grabbed hold of the mouse and searched for a file, holding the story of a girl, presumed dead, but maybe, now, if he possibly was right-_

_He was. It was her. There was no mistaking it. _

_He snapped the laptop closed and raced down the hall until he reached the last office on the right. He pounded on the door. _

_A man with unruly brown hair now flecked with gray answered, looking at him with tired eyes. _

_"Look, I'm sorry, but I don't really have time for-"_

_"Sir, you'll want to see this. I promise."_

_He opened the computer and pressed play. _

_"Oh my God," Michael Vaughn whispered, his eyes filling with tears as he saw his daughter for the first time in seven years. "She's alive." _


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys, **

**Here's chapter 7. Next chap should have some good stuff with Vaughn, so keep reading. Thanks for all the reviews, as always, they made me smile. **

**Thanks for reading,**

**phoenix**

_Michael Vaughn sat there, unmoving, his eyes locked on the screen. "Zoom in on that." The image stopped. It was of a girl climbing into the passenger seat of a moving car. Michael Vaughn knew the girl, he had been searching for her his entire life. But it was not her that he was worried about now. His eyes were locked on the figure driving the car. _

_"I know him," he muttered. "But, it can't be, oh god-"_

_He leapt up from the swivel chair and rummaged through the file drawer. "Where's everything we have on Peterson and Sark?" _

_His assistant ran out of the office, only to return minutes later with a small stack of files in his hands. "Here, sir." _

_Michael Vaughn grabbed the files and spread them out across the desk, searching through the stacks and stacks of papers. "Here. Something about an agency-"_

_"Yes, but we've never found any concrete evidence-"_

_"Until now." Michael pointed to the screen. "See that man? I know him from a mission only about a year ago. He was an agent under the command of Julian Sark." _

_Michael turned back to the papers. "We need to find this place. Get in there and take them down." _

_"I might know somebody who can help," the assistant said. "A prisoner who is known to have connections to Sark. You can try and get the information from them."_

_Michael nodded. "Get a team assembled as soon as possible. This is my daughter. I want her home safely with only the best agents, you understand me?"_

_The assistant nodded and rushed out of the room, leaving Michael Vaughn to get lost once again in the black and white screen, holding the only images he has seen of his daughter since she was a little girl. They bring tears to his eyes. _

Izzie power-walked down the hall, anxiously checking her watch. Great. She was late already, and she was sure that if she was following Jason's crumpled paper of directions right, this was the new combat gym she was supposed to meet him at for training. But now she was lost. And of course the indecipherable scribbles she was still squinting at weren't helping.

Izzie leaned against the wall with a sigh and stared at the door in front of her. There should be a little plastic sign on it that said G 4, if it was the room she was looking for, but the surrounding wall was empty. She thought it through. If it was the right room, then great, but what if it wasn't?

Her heart suddenly gave an excited thump. If it was another room, maybe it would have some information for her, anything about her empty past.

All she had to do was open the door.

Before her annoyingly cautious thoughts could stop her, she grasped the knob and pushed open the door.

She slammed it shut again in disappointment. It wasn't the combat gym, but it wasn't anything else either. There was no other way to describe it except _empty,_ filled to the brim with nothingness. She had at least expected something, but even if she had looked before, it didn't seem like the room had ever held anything at all, much less her past.

Izzie walked back out into the hall again, and heard hurried footsteps racing towards her.

Jason grabbed her shoulder. "Hey. Where the hell have you been?" I've been waiting for nearly twenty minutes."

Izzie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, thanks to your remarkable penmanship." She tossed the scrunched paper at him.

"Sorry. Come on, let's go. We're running out of time."

Izzie followed, and she didn't know why, but she turned to look once more at the door leading to the empty room.

Nearly four hours later, Izzie hit the padded floor of the gym with a thump.

"You okay?" Jason asked, offering her a hand, which she declined.

"Yeah, fine," she replied, but a sharp pain tearing through her foot made it perfectly clear that she wasn't.

"Woah, hang on," Jason said, taking her wrist and wrapping her arm around his shoulders.

"I'm _fine,_" Izzie insisted, but he held on tighter.

"I have some bandages and stuff at my place," he said, pulling her out the door and down the hall. "Just come by for a few minutes," he insisted.

"Fine," Izzie sighed. She winced as a headache added to the pain. "You okay?" Jason asked again.

"Yeah, fine," she repeated, but then said, "Just haven't been sleeping well." She suddenly realized how heavy her eyelids felt.

Jason's face was filled with worry. "You shouldn't have been fighting," he said.

"I'm fine," Izzie said again.

"You're not," Jason insists as he jiggles the key into the lock.

The door opens to reveal a small, dark apartment, with a few books and clothes scattered here and there. Jason flips the switch on the wall and the light blinds Izzie's tired eyes. She flops down onto the couch. She can hear Jason's voice, becoming more and more faint, muttering something ("ankle- probably sprained, ice") The room begins to blur, and as much as she wills herself to stay awake, stay awake, Izzie falls into a deep sleep.

_She sits obediently in a large chair, tangled in dozens of wires that snake through her hair to her head. She sits in the room, the white room, the empty room, but it is now empty now. The walls are lined with machines, buzzing and humming, and all connected, by a tangle of wires, to her head. Her heart pounds, and she begins to shake. She is alone, and misses her parents and little brother. _

_Finally the door opens, and a man in a white coat enters. "What's happening to me," she asks, trying to sound brave like a big girl, but her voice trembles. _

_"Listen, Isabelle," the man says. "We're gonna give you a new life. A better life. And when you get older, you'll be able to help us. Would you like that?"_

_She shakes her head, hard. "No. No, I want to go home." _

_"You will. A new home, a new family."_

_She can hear the click and whirrs of machines turning on. "No."_

_She tries to move, tries to run, but the man in the white coat holds her down. "No! Stop!" _

_A shock of pain zaps through her small head. "Stop!"_

"Stop! No! Help!" Izzie screams, jerking awake, shaking.

"Izzie! What's wrong?"

Izzie's blurred vision began to clear and she saw Jason crouched beside her, eyes wide and panicked. She was tangled in a fleece blanket, and sweat plastered her clothes to her skin.

"Bad dream," Izzie gasped. But it all felt so real. "No it's couldn't have been, but-" she stops, and looks at Jason with eyes full of new understanding. "I think it was a memory."

"It's coming back?" Jason asks.

She shakes her head, confused. "No, not all of it, just that. I was here, in that empty room by the hall you found me in today."

"You were asleep for a while, then you just started screaming and shaking-" Jason puts a hand to Izzie's forehead. She flinches a tiny bit, but doesn't pull away from the touch. "You're hot, too."

She would laugh at the double meaning but she doesn't have the strength. Sleep starts pulling her mind away again. Fearing for another nightmare she tries to hang on, but the blackness starts to encompass her and that last thing she remembers before letting go completely is a pair of warm arms enveloping her and a hand stroking her hair.

It wasn't an easy sleep, and Izzie's mind, poisoned with the nightmare that keeps playing over and over every time she closes her eyes. Finally she woke again with nothing more than a headache. Jason's gone. Not that she thought he would still be here anyway. _Better leave before he gets back, _she decided, and carefully stepping on her injured ankle, she hobbled out of the apartment.

She scanned a map of the building in her mind. To get back to her room, she has to walk down the hall past the offices and the lobby.

Walking on tiptoe past Sark's office, praying that he won't see her, Izzie heard yelling and curiously pressed her ear to the door. Sark and Jason.

"This was all just a side effect of the procedure!" Sark was yelling. "How could you have let her see that room, it must have sparked her memory-"

"How could I?" Jason was now yelling. "It was nothing I did, but you! Take this girl's family and life away just so she can become your perfect little secret agent! No one deserves this life, least of all her."

"She was born for this!" Sark insists. "Look at her family! She means everything to this company!"

"Her family! A family you stole from her? Memories that you took away so all she has left now are the nightmares? She woke up all screaming and shaking last night, did you know that? What did you do to her? What the hell did you do?"

Izzie jumped away from the door, tears running down her face. She raced as fast as she could on her hurt ankle. She reached for the doorknob, but then she heard the screams.

She turned to find the lobby filled with people dressed in black, their faces covered, and each armed with a gun.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello all, **

**Here's chapter 8. The family reunites! Enjoy, and thanks for reading, you guys rock. **

**phoenix**

Isabelle dashed inside the room, slamming the door shut behind her. What the hell was happening? She knew it sure wasn't easy to break into this place. Who were these people?

Izzie peeked out the door. What was she going to do? She couldn't stay here forever, and she didn't have a gun.

She could see some people being taken away in handcuffs. She shuddered, remembering the feeling of the metal against her skin. She didn't want to feel it again.

The footsteps rushed away, and in a minute they were gone. They must be looking for something. Or someone.

Izzie slowly inched out the door. If she was going to have to fight these guys, she needed weapons, but first she needed something for her ankle. She could do no more than walk.

Izzie remembered a door marked with a small red cross, the infirmary. It was only a little further down the next hall, if her memory was correct.

Her heart was pounding so hard it shook her whole body. Finally, there was the door. It seemed like miles and miles away, but finally she gripped the cold silver knob.

Her shaking hands found a bottle of painkillers, and she eagerly gulped them down. But just as the stabbing pain began to fade away, she heard footsteps coming closer and closer. But they could only belong to no more than one man, not the team that had invaded them earlier.

Izzie's curiosity pushed her step by step to the doorway, and as she peered around the corner one hand reached slowly for hers.

Izzie grabbed it by the wrist and sent its owner crashing into the wall.

"Who are you?" she hissed.

"Let go of me and I won't hurt you, I'm just looking for someone-"

"Not until you tell me-"

One voice calmly broke the silence. "Let him go, Isabelle."

Isabelle dropped the man's wrist in shock. "Go," she ordered Izzie's attacker, and he ran. Izzie turned around. Nadia Santos stood before her, holding back tears. Isabelle looked at her, with hair a dark brown just like hers, and lips curled in a smile just like hers, and was mistaken. "Mom?"

A tear ran down Nadia's cheek, and she cursed her appearance, hating that she looked so much like her sister, for if she had looked like someone, anyone else, maybe she could have spared this girl some grief. "No, Isabelle. I'm your mother's sister. My name is Nadia Santos."

Tears blurred Isabelle's vision. But she did not even have a chance to let them fall before another voice called out. "Nadia? Nadia, we have to-"

But at the sight of Isabelle the voice fell silent. Isabelle looked into those eyes just like hers and as the world melted away in her tears, she could feel nothing but her father's arms folding around her.

The next thing she knew, she was back in the small room that had been her only home for the past months, staring at her family for the first time she could remember.

"I know you must have a lot of questions," Michael Vaughn murmured to his daughter.

She nodded, unable to speak a word.

"It's a long story," he began, "and we still don't know all of it."

"Before you were born, your mother and I were agents for the CIA. Your mother, Sydney, was working for an agency pretending to be the CIA. We met when she found out the truth and she came to work for the real CIA."

"A few years later, you were born, and you had a brother, Jack, named after Sydney's father." Tears clouded Vaughn's eyes at this." We tried everything to keep you safe. But then Julian Sark returned, and tried again and again to hunt us down. There was nothing we could do but start a new life."

"So we went to a staged mission, and were reported dead. The CIA pretended to put you and Jack in foster homes, so that when it was safe, we could be together again. But Sark found you first, with the intention to recruit you into his agency when you were old enough. He too, was pretending to be part of the CIA."

Vaughn looked his daughter in the eye. "Jack died, about a year after we lost him. A car crash, when he was only two. And your mother-" Vaughn looked away. "Your mother went missing on that mission. We still haven't found her."

He looked back at Izzie and smiled. "But we found you. Thank god we found you."

Izzie, overwhelmed with emotion, opened her mouth to speak, but then the door burst open to reveal Jason.

"Izzie, what the hell are you still doing here? I've been looking for you. And who are you?" he exclaimed.

"They're my family, Jason," Isabelle whispered. Family. She savored the word in her mouth, and tears streamed down her face again.

Jason merely stared, eyes wide. "We have to go," he murmured. "Sark will find us and you won't be able to escape."

Nadia rushed over to the door, gun clutched in her hand. She nodded. "They're coming. Come on. Helicopter's waiting."

They rushed down the hall. "Exit's this way," Jason directed, and finally they found the door leading to freedom.

"Come on, Isabelle," Vaughn murmured.

"One minute," Izzie said, and he nodded. "Don't be too long," he said, and rushed out to meet Nadia.

"I've got something for you," Jason said. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a folder, marked with her name. "Here's the rest of your story. Every missing piece."

Izzie took it in her hands, and muttered a word of thanks. She stared at the envelope, wanting nothing more then to open it, to use it secret to find her mother and bring her family back together again. She knew what she had to do, for her mother and her family.

She looked up at Jason, trying to find something, anything to say, but no words passed her lips. Instead, in one moment, she lost all control of emotion, and pulled Jason close in a deep kiss.

It shocked her almost as much was it did him, but seconds later they both became enthralled in it. Izzie could hardly believe so much had changed in one day. She was going home with her family, this was the happiest she had ever been in her life. And what scared the hell out of her and thrilled her at the same time, was that there was no one else she'd want to share this with than him.

Finally Izzie pulled away, but brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "Come with me."

He looked at her with longing. "Izzie, I can't."

"Why not?" she whispered. "What's stopping you?"

"You don't know everything about me," he muttered, looking away. "There are some things you probably don't want to know."

Izzie shrank back. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I'm not here because I want to be," Jason said bitterly. "I'm here because-" he stopped, his eyes locked on the ground. "Because Julian Sark is my father."


End file.
